


Dark Magic

by callay



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Play, Dark Magic, Dark Magic Dildo, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: Dark magic is a wild and complex thing, and Viren knows its many facets. But its core has always been destruction, so it’s inevitable that, before long, it takes Viren apart entirely.





	Dark Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic in my TDP tradition of taking the obvious name because hey, nobody else has taken it!
> 
> This one goes out to all the Virsters out there... I hope you like it. <3 <3

In Viren’s darkened bedroom, magic sheds a gentle purple light over his bare chest.

He’s holding a warm knot of power inside him, courtesy of the sacrifice of a flame-eyed newt, and he only spent some of the power on the spell that summoned the purple ball of magic that hovers in his palm. He gazes at the ball for a moment, his heart racing.

After a moment’s deliberation, he feeds the spell a little more power, and the ball grows, sending out a few purple tendrils of magic. He tilts his hand, and the magic shifts, tendrils curling around his fingers, eager to be of use.

Anticipation shivers through Viren at the thought of what he’s about to do. He’s already ready for it – naked, lying in bed, his cock already hot and full against his stomach.

The thought of what he has planned sends a twist of shame through his belly, but that’s drowned out by a hot rush of excitement as he lowers his hand and slides it slowly down his body. He turns his hand to let the ball of magic brush his skin as he goes. The touch of the dark magic is warm and tingling with power, brushing ticklishly against his stomach and teasing against his cock.

Viren shivers, heat sparking through his veins. He knows he could stop here, let the magic curl around his cock in the same way it’s curling eagerly around his fingers. He’s done it before with this spell. Remembering those times sends a thrill of heat through him, and he shudders, shifting on the bed, arching his back a little and letting his knees fall open.

No – he’s not going to stop here. He’s desperate for something more. He can feel the need inside him, an ache of want low in his belly.

Heart racing, he keeps going, bringing his knees up and reaching his hand down between his legs. Immediately, the ball of magic reaches for him, slipping a warm tendril between his cheeks and teasing against his hole.

Even that light touch is enough to send a long shiver of heat through Viren’s body. He bites back a moan, pushing his hips eagerly forward.

He could, he thinks, draw this out. He could go slowly, like he did when he first worked out that he could use this spell this way – curled breathless and pink-cheeked on the bed, letting a slim tendril of magic slide into him. Telling himself he just wanted to try this, that he’d stop in a moment, but continuing on – building up slowly, slowly, until he was shuddering and helpless on the bed, moaning into the pillow.

Or he could skip that and just do this quickly. Seize what he wants.

It’s not like he doesn’t know what he wants, at this point. He’s done this many times before, one desperate night of self-indulgence at a time, only to wake in the morning hot with guilt and shame at yielding to filthy temptation. But the ache always returns, an emptiness inside him yearning to be filled, and he always gives in and does it again.

Because as familiar as the spell has become, it’s no less tantalizing, the addictive rush of dark magic meeting the thrill of forbidden pleasure. He’s no less desperate for it.

No – no, he’s not going to go slowly.

He twists his fingers, transforming the magic in his hand into a long, hard shape. It feels smooth and full in his grip, still sparking with power and pulsing slightly under his fingers. He trembles as he reaches to let the tip of it press up against his entrance, thick and blunt and heavy with potential.

He takes a shuddering breath. Hurriedly he brings his other hand to his mouth and spits into his palm, then smooths his hand over the dark magic shape. He feeds it a little more power, encouraging the pulsing surface of the magic to accept the wet coating of his spit and replicate it. In a few heartbeats, the entire shape is dripping and slick.

His stomach does an eager flip, and he reaches up with one hand and curls it around the bedpost, bracing himself.

And then he drags in a desperate breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and thrusts the shaft of dark magic into himself.

He does it in a single long push, feeling himself stretch open around it, each slick, hard inch pulsing with the tingling heat of magic. It’s a sudden movement, rough enough to steal his breath, but not painful – his body opens up easily for it, like it’s been waiting for it.

Viren groans at the sensation, his back arching, his hand tensing around the bedpost. There’s nothing else like this: the radiating, shifting warmth of the magic inside him, the forbidden thrill of something so filthy, so dark and decadent. There’s swell of heat inside him that says this is natural, _right_ – that he’s meant to be filled like this, that dark magic is as much a part of him as his blood.

With a gasp, he starts to move, drawing the shaft of magic in and out of himself in a hard, steady rhythm. The magic pulses as it moves, rippling as it pushes into him, swelling inside him. The rush of sensation knocks the breath from him, leaves him open-mouthed and whimpering, his knees falling open, his stomach trembling and his hips twitching up into each push.

It’s overwhelming. He can’t think, can barely manage to keep moving in rhythm, and he loves it – the pure, cleansing darkness of not thinking, of abandoning the worries of life and existing only in this moment, in each hot, shivering, swelling push of the dark magic into him.

He squirms on the bed, his hand moving between his legs, drowning in sensation and yet eager for more. He still has a reserve of power drawn from the flamefang newt – gasping, he feeds more power into the spell, and the magic starts to grow inside him. It swells until the stretch of it almost hurts, until it’s impossibly deep inside him.

He moans. An eager wave of tension seizes him as the pressure fills him, and he can feel his body squeeze around the magic, which pulses in response, tingling with heat. Viren cries out at the feeling, trembling, and the last of the power he’s been holding onto slips from his grasp and pours into the spell.

A bright spark of panic runs through him at the thought of the magic growing even bigger inside him. Instead, the excess power is forced to spill out of him, dark magic tendrils curling against his skin, sliding between the cheeks of his ass. Some magic wraps around his hand, slipping between his fingers and curling around his wrist, but most spreads over the flushed, sensitive skin between his legs, running along the creases where his thighs meet his hips, pushing warm and tingling up to curl around his balls and wrap tendrils around his cock.

Viren gasps. His cock is achingly hard, flushed dark and swollen on his belly, and the tingling touch of the magic is almost unbearable. His hand is still moving desperately between his legs, driving the shaft in and out of himself, and now that movement reverberates out through the tendrils, making them press into his skin. Each thrust makes the curl of glowing purple magic around his cock tighten in a wave, so that pressure sweeps up the length of him, a dizzying rush of sensation that pushes the breath from him in a low moan.

Viren had wanted to lose himself in this – now he’s so far gone that he’s not sure there’s any piece of him left. He feels like he’s been consumed entirely by dark magic, inside and around him, pulsing and stroking and gripping him in an unyielding rhythm. He controls the spell, but right now it feels like the magic is a being of its own, something demanding and hungry, eager to swallow him whole.

Dark magic is a wild and complex thing, and Viren knows its many facets. But its core has always been destruction, so it’s inevitable that, before long, it takes Viren apart entirely.

Orgasm starts deep inside him and sweeps up through his body, hot enough to light every piece of him aflame, potent enough to tense all his muscles, to arch his back and hips off the bed. He moans aloud as his cock jerks in the tight grip of the magic, spilling in thick hot spurts up his stomach. For one endless, breathless moment, he loses himself completely.

Eventually, he trembles through the last pulses of pleasure and then collapses flat onto the bed, gasping.

The dark magic retreats slowly, lingering against his skin for a long moment before curling itself back into a ball in his hand. Viren closes his hand into a fist and the magic dissolves immediately into smoke, nothing more than a shadow in the dark bedroom.

He takes a slow, shuddering breath. His whole body feels well-used, oversensitive, just sore enough to give him a little twist of pleasure. His cock is already softening against his stomach.

He cleans himself up carefully with a handkerchief. In the morning, he might find this handkerchief and feel a rush of disgust and shame for indulging in this – but at the moment, he can’t feel any of that. All he can feel is a warmth deep in his bones, the lingering heat of magic sparking the occasional shiver of pleasure, like a distant echo of everything he just felt.

And when he closes his eyes, he finds, for once, that he slips easily into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [calllay](https://calllay.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!


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